Wrackspurts Are A Blessing
by SlightlyCrazyYetSane
Summary: When she pulled back, she looked at him and he swore he saw a hint of mischievousness in her eyes. "There. Now are the Wrackspurts gone?"- Please, R&R! For the "When Love First Grows" HPFC challenge.


**A/N: 'Ello! This is my first time writing anything Lovebottom, though I just ADORE their shipping. **

**For the "When Love First Grows" competition at HPFC. This is my first time writing Luna, and, Merlin, she's so _hard _to write! Anyway, I hope my attempt isn't dismal.**

**Don't forget to review! Oh, and sorry for any typos. :) **

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He couldn't believe the wreckage that was displayed in front of him. Hogwarts, his beloved school, was completely ruined. There was rubble everywhere, dust billowing in the aftermath of the battle. Pillars and columns that once stood tall and proud had been destroyed, frames that once embellished the walls splintered and broken. He stared at his hand, where his fist was still clenching the hilt of the sword of Godric Gryffindor tightly, his knuckles turning white. He relinquished the grip, and the sword clattered noisily to the ground, the sound echoing through the empty hallway. The adrenaline rush from the battle was gone, and Neville suddenly realized how tired he was, and sits down heavily on the ground right next to the sword. He stuffed his face into his hands, not believing the ruin.

Oh, Merlin, _what_ had just happened?

What had just transpired?

Everything was a haze. He remembered shouting spells, disarming opponents, killing Nagini, Harry's miraculous recovery, the fact that they won...but he couldn't come to terms with all of it. Because if he did...

If he did, he had to come to terms with all the _death_, with all the _grief_ as well. He had to come to terms with the fact that he had watched his comrades, his _friends_, fall, one by one. He had watched the strongest being eliminated, watched so many die. How could he come to terms with that?

Merlin, how could _anyone_ come to terms with that?

Looking around once more, he finally focused enough to realize that, if he peered closely enough, he could see the corpses of giant spiders and fallen giants in the distance, smoke still rising from certain places. The stench of death, of blood, of violence was still in the air, and he suddenly had the urge to throw up, remembering how _easily_ Nagini's head had given way, how easily the skin had been severed.

_ How easy it is_, he thought, _to take a life._

He sat there for a while, not keeping track of the time, surprised to find that no one was walking through the corridor. Unbidden, tears started to form in his eyes as he remembered everyone he had lost. As he remembered all that had died.

Merlin, it was cruel.

Oh, so very _cruel_.

They had won, finally won!, and yet, everything was lost. He didn't feel as if he had really won anything. The only thing that he really felt was an overwhelming sense of loss, and a small bit of relief, though he quickly squelched that away.

Exhaling shakily, he shut his eyes, just wanting to _forget_.

Just wanting to forget everything. He didn't want to deal with this, he didn't want to deal with the pain, the sorrow, the grief, the loss, but he wouldn't run away. He had decided that he would stop running away when he had come back for Seventh Year to find Hogwarts warped into a hell hole.

After six years of Hogwarts, he had finally embraced his inner Gryffindor, and he wasn't going to go back now.

Sniffling loudly, he certainly didn't expect to hear what he heard next: footsteps. Footsteps which were coming closer and closer to his hiding spot. His eyes flew open suddenly and he remembered that they were wet. Quickly, he wiped the unshed tears away; it would do no good to let someone see him like this.

Peering to his right, since that was where the noise was coming from, he was surprised to see a shock of waist-long blonde hair. Unusually focused gray eyes stared at him, and he saw that her wand was tucked in behind her left ear. Cuts and scrapes were visible on her bare arms and on her face, but, other than that, she seemed quite whole, if a little paler than usual.

"Hello, Neville," she called out in her usual dreamy voice. Neville was glad to find that at least _that_ hadn't changed.

"'Lo, Luna," he replied, and he was horrified to find that his voice was all stuffy, as if he had been crying.

Luna stopped a few feet from him and stared at him curiously, cocking her head to one side, as if she was staring at a particularly interesting specimen.

She blinked, once, twice, thrice.

"Are you busy?" she asked abruptly.

Neville stared at her dumbfounded. What on earth would he be busy with? There was no one and nothing here! Though, he shouldn't have been surprised. Luna had always been a bit...odd.

"Er...no. Not really."

"Oh, that's nice. It just seemed you were occupied with something," she replied. "Mind if I sit down?"

"No, not at all."

Luna came closer and closer to Neville, and finally sat down so close to him, there was barely a centimeter of space in between.

Neville cleared his throat awkwardly and looked around at all the empty space.

"Er, Luna. Is there a particular reason that you're sitting so close to me?" he asked as politely as he could. "Not that I mind! No, it's nothing like that. I'm just curious."

"I'm sitting closer to you because there seems to be a Wrackspurt infestation around this area, and if you're with someone, they find it harder to invade your brain," she stated simply, peering into his eyes with her deep, gray ones. Because of the lack of space between their bodies, their lips were extremely close as well. Close enough that, if Neville wanted, he could slowly lean forward and their lips would…

Neville suddenly found it _very_ hot and quickly looked away, feeling the blush on his face. He had been so immersed in looking into her eyes (Merlin, they were so _pretty_) and marveling at the lack of space between them (though he really shouldn't have been thinking those thoughts) that he had only picked up something about Wrackspurts.

"Oh. I see." Though he really didn't.

When she didn't make a move to say anything or move (Neville found that he didn't particularly mind the closeness), Neville turned to look back at her to find her staring in his direction again, her prominent eyes wide and curious.

"Why are you blushing?" she asked.

Neville's eyes widened at the question and he felt himself blush even redder.

"I'm not!" he denied vehemently, without thinking, and then blushed even harder at the fact that it was so obvious. _He_ didn't even know why he was blushing!

"No, actually. You are."

"There's...no reason."

"Oh, all right. It's okay if you don't want to tell me." Neville was about to tell her that it wasn't _that__, _but stopped when he realized that she didn't really mind.

They shared a few moments of awkward silence, though Neville was sure that he was the only one that was feeling awkward. Luna was gazing ahead of her, her eyes distant and, though Neville thought that he was imagining this, a little misty.

"It's so...sad, isn't it?"

The question jarred Neville and he whipped his head around to look at her. After he realized that she was staring at the battle scene, or what was left of it, Neville stared out at it too.

"Yeah. It is," he conceded after a moment, a heavy sigh escaping him. Without wanting to, he continued. "It's just...everything's so horrible. Everything's so hopeless. We've lost so many. It doesn't even feel like we've won. How can anything be normal again?" His voice was bitter and he was staring at the ground. He didn't know why, but he found talking to Luna so easy. Though she barely offered good feedback– most of it was about Wrackspurts and Nargles and Crumple-Horned Whatevers –when she did, she really gave you something to think about. She was a great listener, and didn't ever laugh at you or make fun of you or _judge_ you.

Luna looked at him suddenly.

"You're wrong, you know."

Neville was a bit taken aback. She had never actually explicitly told him he was wrong. She had disagreed, yes, even _debated_, as odd as it sounded, but had never told him he was wrong.

She looked at him, and she had this...this fierce look in her eyes, one of determination, one of _hope_.

"This battle reminds me of the phoenix. The Wizarding World will be born again from its ashes, just like a phoenix is born from its own. At first, it will be strange and new, but it will get all better in time. We just have to learn to walk on our new legs, don't we? You just have to believe," she said, and then gave him a small smile. "It'll be all right, as long as we have friends."

Neville stared at her, feeling a strange, foreign, tingling sensation in his stomach. Blushing again (and he had just calmed himself down!), he looked away. Once again, she had surprised him completely! When Neville thought about it…what she had said actually made sense.

"A phoenix, huh?" he questioned, and then gave a short, small laugh. "That makes sense."

Luna hummed in agreement.

"I can't wait to see the phoenix in its full flight," she said dreamily, a small smile on her face.

Neville suddenly felt his breath catch in his throat. Though he had seen Luna smile before, this one was different. Her lips were pulled back to show a small amount of teeth, her eyes crinkling slightly at the corners, and a general air of pleasure was around her.

Neville couldn't help but think that she was beautiful, cuts and scrapes and dirt and all.

When Neville realized what he had just thought, he froze in shock. Oh dear Merlin, _what_ had he just thought! He couldn't think of Luna that way! She was just his friend! Just. His. Friend!

No matter how much he tried to stop himself, though, he kept on thinking her. She was strong and independent, zany and aloof, friendly and nice...

She was beautiful.

Oh, Merlin, what was he thinking!

_Stop thinking!_ he shouted internally, aimed at his brain. As expected, he didn't get a response.

"What's wrong?" she asked, staring at him again with wide curious eyes. Startled, he realized that he had been gaping at her.

"Oh, erm, it's nothing."

"Neville...are you sure you're all right? You've been acting odd." Her eyes narrowed slightly in concern, focused on him. Neville felt his eyes widen, and he dry swallowed once.

"I...er...I'm all right. I really am."

Oh, _bollocks_. He had to get himself under control! He couldn't start acting weird now.

"Are you quite sure?"

"Yes. Yes I am."

"All right, then." She looked away from him and started studying the battle field intently again.

Before Neville could properly comprehend what had happened, Luna quickly whipped her head toward him, leaned in and gave him a small peck on the lips, and then moved back, watching his reaction though her own was just as aloof as usual.

Neville's brain froze, trying to remember what, exactly, his name was. His eyes were wide with shock and he was pretty sure that his jaw was hinged open in surprise.

Merlin, what the _bloody_ hell had just happened?

An embarrassing startled sound escaped him, and he stared at Luna in shock.

"Hmm...I see," she concluded, though what she had concluded, Neville had no bloody clue about.

"You...you...you just kissed! Me! You just kissed me!" Neville finally got out.

"I know. You didn't like it?" She frowned. "Your reaction showed you did, though."

"It's...it's not that I didn't like it! You just... you just kissed me! Doesn't that mean something?"

"Oh, so you're saying that you don't like me?" she inquired curiously, though Neville could detect a small hint of disappointment and sadness. "Perhaps I read the signs wrong."

"No, I do like you!" Neville quickly countered, "but you...you kissed me!"

Luna blinked owlishly at him.

"Isn't that what people do when they like each other? Kiss?" she asked. "Oh! Have the Wrackspurts got you? It would explain why you're not understanding..."

Neville was too busy trying to absorb the part about "liking each other" to actually pay attention to whatever she had said after that.

She...she liked him?

Luna Lovegood _liked_ him?

He must have misheard.

"Wait...what do you mean, like each other?" he quickly interrupted her musings about Wrackspurts or whatever. "You mean you like me?"

She stopped talking and stared at him.

"Well, yes. I though it was quite obvious."

Neville spluttered, trying to get something out.

"No, it wasn't obvious! I thought that you liked me as just friends," he finally got out.

"But I do like you as a friend. Can't I like you as something more as well?"

"Well, you can...but...but...are you sure?"

She gave a stern look. Or, at least, as stern as Luna could get.

"Yes, Neville. I'm quite sure."

Neville stared at her, flabbergasted. Merlin, he needed a breather.

"All right, so, let me get this straight. You, Luna Lovegood, like me. As more than friends. Right?"

She nodded, though her demeanor showed that she was getting just a bit impatient.

"And, you like me enough to kiss me."

Once more, she nodded.

"So...you're sure?"

A nod.

"Positive?"

"Neville..."

"You're not, are you?" he asked, disheartened. "I knew it was too good to be true. Why would someone like you be interested in someone like me? I'm just plain old Neville Longbottom, and you're amazing, interesting, Luna Lovegood. There's a whole–"

Before he could finish, though, Luna had leaned in, finally fed up with him, and kissed him on the lips. Again.

This time, Neville was sure he would melt.

When she pulled back, she looked at him and he swore he saw a hint of mischievousness in her eyes.

"There. _Now _are the Wrackspurts gone?"

Neville nodded without thinking.

"Yeah," he said hoarsely. "I think they are."

He didn't know what these Wrackspurt things were, but he decided he _loved_ them for spurring Luna on to kiss him.

She smiled serenely at him and stood up. Offering her hand, she asked.

"Are you coming? Will you watch the phoenix with me?"

Neville smiled up at her, and at that moment, he realized something. It was more of an acceptance, really, since he had had an inkling for a while. Now, it was confirmed.

"You know what? I think that sounds great."

He was in love with Luna Lovegood.


End file.
